


troubled history

by solar_celeste



Series: whumptober 2019 [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Blood Loss, Blood and Injury, Bruce Wayne Tries, Concussions, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Explosions, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, No. 2 - Freeform, School Threats, Whumptober 2019, and a better history teacher, school lock downs, two days in a row! whoo!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 11:33:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20873519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solar_celeste/pseuds/solar_celeste
Summary: Day #3 of Whumptober: ExplosionDamian barely had time to duck before everything around him exploded.Debris flew around with no pattern, littering the floor and Damian with chunks of wood, loose screws, sheets of metal from the lockers and those hideous squares of ceiling. His knees buckled as a large wooden plank crashed into his leg. He fell, tilting to the right as he tumbled into the mess.





	troubled history

Damian swore his ears were about to bleed. 

His history teacher, a rather moody man who favoured the use of chalk to the much _ quieter _ dry erase markers and white board, had been talking about the American revolution for nearly a full _ hour. _ At first, it was rather interesting, especially to Damian who tended to appreciate and even enjoy the subject. Now, after almost sixty minutes of listening to the man’s monotone voice, Damian was about to pick up his bag and march out of that classroom faster than Paul Revere himself.

They had extended blocks that day, as they did every Wednesday (one of Gotham Academy’s _ many _ downsides) and the eleven year old was more than positive he wouldn’t be able to bare through another half an hour of torture. 

With one final glance at the clock and a quick touch up to the notes he was forcing himself to take, Damian raised his hand and held it high for the teacher to see.

And held it.

And held it some more. 

His teacher did not look, not even for one short moment did the professor take his eyes off of his beloved chalkboard. Damian rolled his eyes, clearing his throat to gather his teachers attention. Finally, Mr. Myers turned around, eyes scanning the crowd of desks in search of the offending student. Damian waved his hand some, even having to exaggerate the movements before Myers finally spotted him.

“Mr. Wayne?” His teacher asked, looking, for his part, only slightly annoyed at being interrupted.

“May I use the restroom, sir?” Damian asked, sweetening his voice and bouncing his leg slightly to exaggerate his ‘need’. His teacher hardly ever let his students leave one of his lectures, not unless it was a real emergency. 

Myers took in the situation, sighed and finally nodded his head. He muttered something rather offensive about children’s small bladders and reminded Damian to grab the hall pass on his way out. 

Damian didn’t remember a time he had moved so fast. 

The bathroom was only a little way down the hall, the history wing being the closest to the main lavatories. Still, even though the walk was much shorter than he would have liked, Damian was thankful for the chance to stretch his cramping legs and ease the oncoming migraine. He stopped by the water bubbler, taking in a few refreshing sips he hoped would defend against the soon to be headache before entering the boys bathroom. 

He hadn’t needed to use it, in fact, Damian _ despised _using the restrooms at school, or any public facilities for that matter. Still though, he entered a stall and let himself slide to the ground, too tired to care about the ocean of germs and parasites he was sure he had just sat on. His head felt a little warm and the cool tile of the floor and wall felt good on his aching muscles. 

He wondered if he was coming down with something. If so, sitting on the boys bathroom floor at his child infested school probably wasn’t the best way to prevent obtaining an illness. He let his mind wander for a moment, wondering how long he would be able to his sickness from father before the man discovered him and banned him from patrol.

He hoped not, Damian didn’t get to see his father much out of uniform. 

He allowed himself a moment to shut his eyes, the pulsing behind his corneas easing slightly as he did so. 

Damian couldn’t have had his eyes shut for more than a minute when the shrill beep of the loudspeaker cut echoed through the bathroom, bouncing off the tiled walls to hit his ears painfully. It was always the same elderly lady, voice scratchy from years of abuse and puffs of nicotine.

_“Attention students, we are now in lock down.” _She said, voice oddly calm for saying something with so much weight. Damian’s heart rate spiked with the words, he quickly picked his head off from the tile. _“Stay where you are and perform the practiced procedure. We have just received a threat and have already notified the police. This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill.” _Damian hurried to his feet, rushing to the door to hurry into the hallway before he stilled. This was not a mission. He wasn’t Robin and, out of uniform, Damian Wayne was nothing but a normal, useless eleven year old kid. 

His blood boiled. He knew what he had to do. He also knew it wasn’t all that logical and that if any of the school staff were around, they would tell him to stay where he was. Still, even if he wasn’t leaving the bathroom in search of the potential threat, he didn’t feel comfortable waiting alone and cornered in the bathroom practically waiting for the threat to come to him. 

He gripped the hall pass and pressed his ear against the inside of the bathroom door. He listened for a few moments and, upon hearing nothing, proceeded to creep his way into the hallway. 

It was eerily quiet and seemed almost as if the school had been entirely abandoned. The classroom doors were shut, shades pulled down and all locked securely. He made his way down the hall, looking for somewhere he could duck into that would provide at least a little shelter.

He had walked about fifty feet when he cursed himself for his stupidity. There was nowhere that offered cover in a school that had initiated lock down. Every door was sealed, every window covered and a janitor's closet would provide even less protection than the bathroom had. It wasn’t even an option to knock on one of the classrooms. Any noise from outside would indicate to the students and teacher that the threat was trying to infiltrate their room. The last thing Damian wanted to do was be mistaken for the criminal. 

He cursed himself again when he realized he wasn’t even sure exactly what the threat was. 

Mother would have been furious with him. 

Perhaps Father was correct and Damian _ was _ to rash, to arrogant and pompous a hinderance-

Damian barely had time to duck before everything around him exploded.

Debris flew around with no pattern, littering the floor and Damian with chunks of wood, loose screws, sheets of metal from the lockers and those hideous squares of ceiling. His knees buckled as a large wooden plank crashed into his leg. He fell, tilting to the right as he tumbled into the mess. 

It was quiet for a moment and Damian waited, crouched awkwardly over the remnants of the wall that once stood beside him. His leg was trapped, caught under a fallen piece of drywall still attached to the stud. He scoffed at the lousy architecture. A school as fine as this one should have been made more sound. 

Damian didn’t get a chance to dwell on the subject before there was another explosion, a little closer this time, and a mound of lockers about twenty feet down the hall exploded. Shards of razor sharp metal flew out in all directions. Damian tried to duck, covering his head and doing his best to crouch down. But , with his leg caught as it was, his attempts were in vain and a large piece managed to slice a large gash on his forehead and upper arm. He gasped, biting his lip in response to the intense stinging before listening for another explosion.

He tried to stem the bleeding as he waited, he wounds tended to pour blood in heaps kissing as little as possible would keep him the most coherent. Besides, he already suspected a concussion, adding blood loss to the lost would make it even more difficult for him to figure out an escape. 

After some more time making sure, Damian decoded it was safe enough to assume there wasn’t another bomb. Tightening his grip on wounds, he began to assess the situation. The threat was obviously a bomb, and he hoped there had only been two. The first one must have taken place somewhere on the floor below him, the art wing then, and the other where he was now, near the gym. He was thankful for that, since the gym appeared empty and he was well aware there were no art classes that block. He often escaped history to visits the art teacher. He rather liked her, and subconsciously hoped that she was alright. 

He wondered why though, someone would go through the trouble of destroying the parts of the school that were currently empty. As horrible of a thought as it was, it was a rather logical one and Damain supposed it must have been a metaphor or a protest. A large one for sure, and probably from someone not so physiologically well. 

A wave of dust came crashing from what was left to the ceiling. Ductwork and pipes could be seen overhead, as well as what Damian believed to be a small part of the late morning sky. 

Damian hoped that Father would come, even in the daytime. He was sure that the man new of the current events by now, especially considered who he was both day and night. Damian hoped soon, his vision was already starting to blur, nofcicid by the fuzzy outline of air duct above.

Though, he supposed the man had a right not to come, they had fought again last night after all. Damian had been banned from patrol again. Father and not spoken to him since, Damian realized. 

Not a ‘good night’ or a ‘good morning’ or even a ‘hello’. And so, Damian assumed it was best to think that maybe, just maybe, no one was coming for him at all. 


End file.
